


Pretty Ugly Duckling Mistletoe

by ahh_fuck



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Family, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28053279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahh_fuck/pseuds/ahh_fuck
Summary: Just a little fluffy ficlet about Geralt and Yennefer kissing under some mistletoe... at least, they try to. Certain other people have different ideas, and will Shout Loudly about them.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	Pretty Ugly Duckling Mistletoe

The manor was quiet. Yennefer walked from room to room, turning out the lights as she went. It had been a long day, and she was ready for it to be over with at last. She paused in the kitchen, grabbing two glasses and a large bottle of hard cider in a bucket of ice. It clattered quietly in her hand as she lifted it, striding purposefully down the hall to the living room. 

The living room was huge, with a plush white carpet everywhere except the fireplace, which had lovely slate tile in front of it. (The white carpet had turned out to be a mistake, but more on that in a moment.) A long, overstuffed leather couch faced it, and in the far corner by the window was one of the largest trees that Yennefer had ever seen stuffed into a house. She sniffed, walking over to place the bucket and glasses on the low table in front of the couch. Straightening, she stared thoughtfully into the fire.

The carpet had turned out to be a mistake for the same reason that there was now a giant tree in her bloody living room. Of course, she couldn’t have known that when she bought the manor. No, back then she was single, and parenthood had been the furthest thing from her mind. 

A small noise behind her caused her to stir. She turned and broke out into an unguarded smile of sheer delight. Leaning against the doorjamb was a towering man with white hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. He was wearing a black t-shirt and black jeans, which were set off very charmingly by the glittery tiara on his head and the fluffy pink boa wound around his neck. There was something that looked suspiciously like a mustard-colored handprint smeared low on his shirt, and there were shadows under his eyes. 

“Geralt,” she grinned. “You look like a troll ate you and spat you back up.”

Geralt grumbled under his breath, looking down at the mustard stain on his shirt. This motion caused the forgotten tiara on his head to fall. He cursed and caught it in a practiced motion, tossing it aside into a nearby box of toys.

Yennefer slipped around the side of the couch as he did so, slowly walking over to greet Geralt. It was his first year as a father to his adopted daughter Ciri, and it showed. Not only had he bought a tree so big she’d had to force him to cut part of it off before it even fit in the living room, he had stuffed the place full of presents. The fact that they were mostly from the dollar store made it more charming. At three, Ciri was just happy she got to tear paper. The present inside seemed to exist in her small mind as some sort of odd bonus.

“Is she in bed?”

“She’d better be,” Geralt sighed, starting to peel the boa off as well. “I just tucked her in for the third time.”

Yennefer reached out, pulling Geralt’s hand down before he can take the boa off. She hummed, amused. “Leave it. You look charming.”

“I look like I got tarred and feathered by Sailor Moon,” Geralt complained, but there’s no heat in it. He smiled as Yennefer stepped a little closer, nudging him off of the doorjamb.

“You look like a good father,” Yennefer said, walking him back another step. “It looks good on you.” She walked him back another step, then grabbed him by the boa and halted him. 

“Perfect.” Eyeing him, she tightened her grip just a little more. Ever since he’d shown up on her doorstep with a toolbelt around his waist, she hadn’t been able to stop looking at him. He’d been there to replace wiring damaged by a squirrel, but their chemistry had been, dare to say, _electric_. 

By the time he’d rolled off of her, she’d known that she was in love. She’d known it before his back had even hit the bed.

Now, he glanced over his shoulder as he saw her eyes begin to gleam. Up above his head he spotted a sprig of mistletoe. Over by the fire the ice shifted, causing the bottle to settle slightly. He glanced at it, then back at Yennefer. His eyebrow went up. “Yeah?”

“Mm,” Yennefer purred her agreement. “For good luck. Christmas is only two days, we’re going to need it.”

Geralt gave a low rumbling chuckle, pulling her close. “You’re not wrong.” 

Yennefer wound the fingers of one hand into his shirt, using the boa to pull him down. “Less agreeing, more kissing,” she murmured teasingly. “Before Ciri wakes up again.”

“Hmm,” Geralt agreed, amber eyes sparking with humor. He studied her face for a little moment; a few heartbeats- less- drinking in her beauty. Then she yanked at the boa around his neck and pulled hard, forcing him down. He went with a willing chuckle, feeling his knees turn to water as Yennefer’s soft lips pressed against his own. The scent of lilac and gooseberries enfolded him and he swayed happily, his eyes fluttering closed. And when her tongue did a wicked little flicker, he felt a surge of heat roll through his body.

He was halfway through picking her up when he realized, too late, that the little noise he’d been hearing was not, in fact, snowmelt dripping off of the roof. It was little feet.

“EWWWWWW!”

Behind them was a wide-eyed toddler with white-blonde hair and emerald green eyes. She wore pajamas that matched the boa around Geralt’s neck, and she carried a little plush horse so worn that it was almost rags. She bit her finger and scowled at Geralt and Yennefer curiously. “Yuck?” she added, hopefully. 

Geralt closed his eyes and sighed, carefully placing Yennefer back on the floor. Yennefer just laughed. 

“What are you doing out of bed, little cub?” She pushed Geralt aside and gathered Ciri up, giving Geralt a moment to… compose himself. Giggling, she carefully turned with Ciri in her arms to look at the tree.

“Is Santa here yet?”

“Goodness ugly one, no! He’s not going to be here for two more days! You’ll keep him away by staying awake, didn’t you know?”

“I’m NOT ugly!” Ciri crowed. She knew this game.

“Yes you are! My pretty ugly one. My beautiful, ugly duckling.”

“I’m NOT a DUCKLING!” Ciri shouted. Yennefer began to tickle her as Geralt drifted over to join them, a tired smile on his face.

“Oh no? What are you then? Are you a frog?” she teased, her violet eyes alight with happiness as the toddler flailed her chubby limbs. 

“No! I’m a PRINCESS!” Ciri shouted with laughter. 

“That’s right,” Geralt sighed, coming up and enfolding both of them in his arms from behind. “Our beautiful princess.” He and Yennefer exchanged glances out of the corner of their eye- looks like the cider would have to wait, at least for one more bedtime story.


End file.
